The Butterfly's Notebook
by TheGrimKeeper
Summary: How can you help someone when you know all about their troubles, but haven't the faintest idea of who they are? Tweek stumbles upon a journal and plans on returning it to whoever it belongs to - that is, until he begins to read it and can't seem to put it down. Warning for mentioned abuse, language. Creek, mentioned Dip, Bunny, Revin, Ruben, Stendy.
1. Finders

Hey guys! First off, I'd like to apologize for any spelling errors, I've been in kinda a hurry to get this up, shower, eat dinner then get to a friends house. Secondly, this will be a 3-part story, to give you an idea on how long it'll be. Anyway, I hope you like what you read, so please go ahead and leave a review about what you think :3 Thanks! -Nixy

ALSO: I do not own South Park, Sucker Punch or Fruits Basket (though I wish I did ,)

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The Butterfly's Notebook

Part 1 - Finders

"Brah brah brah, brah brah brah-" Was all I heard from my Eastern Cultures professor as I scribbled in my notebook, random doodles that came to mind as I waited for class to end. I had to get back to the Ashe Center before Craig left so I could return the bag of dice he'd lent me for last night's DND session.

I reached over to my teal-colored thermos and twisted the cap off, taking in the strong aroma of coffee. A smile crept across my face at the wave of calmness that rolled through my system from the scent. I took a gulp, carefully watching the professor zip back and forth before the whiteboard, adding a note here, fixing a spelling error there. He made a lot of spelling errors, only to be corrected by students like Kyle who wanted his notes to be accurate.

Kyle Broflovski was the guy sitting next to me, and a member of 'the group' here at South Park College. Being a top student, he prominently asked questions, directing the classes attention class's attention back here, setting my nerves on edge.

Glancing back down to my mess-of-a-notebook, I screwed the cap back on my thermos, debating what to draw next. It didn't take too long before I even realized what I'd been drawing – a large black raven swooping down to carry off a torn-out section of a city.

Huh. I was sure I'd seen that image somewhere before, but the thought escaped me as students suddenly stood up, gathered their belongings and headed for a door.

Kyle stood and stretched, letting free a long-awaited yawn. I closed my notebook and slipped it into my messenger bag.

"Ugh." Kyle voiced, dropping his arms. "I can't wait to get home and _sleep_." He smiled over at me and I offered a low chuckle – well, as low as my squeaky voice would allow. "Hey, you're going to the party at Wendy's, aren't you?"

"Of course." I said as we both headed toward the door.

"Are you bringing a dish or anything?" He asked, pulling slightly at the ear-flaps of his green ushanka.

"Craig's gunna -ngh- help me back a pie." I said as we pushed out into the heat. It was already about five till six and the sun was beginning to retire behind the towering college buildings surrounding us.

"I haven't decided what to take yet." He said as we headed in the direction of the Ashe Student Center. "I mean, I've never really been good at cooking like Bebe, or Cartman who's actually studying Culinary." I mindlessly shrugged my shoulders as he muttered something about how he should have seen that one coming.

"You don't h-have to make something yourself." We both came to a stop at a fork in the sidewalk. "I-I mean, you could just bring drinks – we'll need those, too." Kyle seemed to mull this over a second, eyes blankly scanning the concrete.

"Who's bringing the alcohol.?" He asked suddenly, causing me to snap my head sideways in a violent twitch.

"Kenny's supplying."

"Oh, figures. Well, I might just bring Mt. Dew or something, then." He said before yawning and smiling. "Thanks, Tweek. Anyway, I gotta get home before I fall asleep." He gave me a small wave, starting off down the sidewalk backwards. "See ya tomorrow!"

"Later, Kyle." I waved back before walking up to the Ashe Center, clutching my thermos.

Each weekday, witch the exception of Friday when they closed early, the Ashe Student Center locked up at six, giving me only maybe a minute left to locate my best friend.

I found the raven in the group's corner, his back to me as he pocked up this things – A sketchbook, pencil bag, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper. As I walked over, I fished out his bag of dice, the familiar clanking sound as I shook it causing him to turn.

"Hey, Tweek." He smiled, reaching out as I handed to bag to him. "I was hoping you'd still have my dice, since I forgot to grab em."

"Lucky I caught you." I said, glancing at the clock on the wall reading 5:59. A low rumble, like a purr, escaped Craig's throat.

"Maybe I should buy you a set so you don't have to worry about borrowing mine." He joked, dangling the bag before me like a dead mouse before a disinterested cat.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather pick out the dice myself." I said, grinning as Craig threw a straw paper into the trashcan. He was just about to reply when we were both interrupted by an unimaginably annoying sound.

"Come on, guys, we're closing. Hurry it up." Stephanie from the Student Center office said, snapping her fingers. Craig scowled, flipping her off as I looked around the corner for anything Craig might have forgotten. My eyes fell on a notebook, more like a journal with how nice it looked. It was spiraled, bound by black-coated wire. The front cover was dark brown, looking a bit like rich dirt, with gold details just barely recognizable as plant leaves. A vibrant blue butterfly rested on top of the dirt, wings laces with tans and lined by browns and golds.

I picked it up, turning to Craig.

"Who's is this?" I asked, turning it over to find the same pattern on the back cover. I was sure it wasn't his, and he confirmed this with only a shrug, tugging on my sleeve to pull me out of the building before the banshee decided to open her mouth again.

"I dunno. It's been lying there since I got back from math." He said as we walked along the sidewalk toward the parking lot. "Is there a name on the inside cover?"

I flipped open the cover to find no name, only an entry entitled "Angels".

"Nope." I said, shaking my head and putting the notebook in my bag.

"Maybe if you bring it tomorrow, someone will claim it."

"Yea..." I said, not really paying it attention.

"Well, I'll see ya tomorrow, Tweek. Watch out for those Underpants Gnomes." Craig laughed to himself, but I knew he wasn't making fun. Instead, I waved goodbye as he slid into his car.

"See ya, Craig." I watched him pull out of the parking lot before I crossed the street and cut through several backyards to get home.

When I got inside, Clyde and Butters were on the couch playing Xbox.

"Sup, Tweek." Clyde said without looking away from his screen.

"Oh hi there, Tweek." Said Butters, actually bothering to look up and smile at me.

"Hey. I said tiredly as I took off my shoes and set my bag down on my comfy gray chair sitting by the tea table.

I entered the kitchen and grabbed a ramen cup, filling it with water and setting it in the microwave.

My first roommate was Clyde Donovan, a taco-loving brunette back from high school where we'd been good friends. He was the leader of our DND sessions and currently working through gen-eds, not knowing what he really wanted to do in life yet, though he was leaning a bit toward business – something I'm sure was strongly suggested by his father who owned a shoe store.

The other roommate was Butters Stotch, another kid who didn't quite know what he wanted to do. Most of the time he would switch back and forth between different ideas, giving one the feeling he had the career version of Multiple Personality Disorder. He was a sweet kid, though, and when I said kid, I mean it. Sure, he's 20 like me, but he's incredibly naive to the point where Cartman abuses that on a regular basis. Kenny, however, didn't appreciate this, which was why one day Cartman ended up walking into the Ashe Center sporting a prominent black eye.

It wasn't official, but pretty much the entire group was convinced that Kenny and Butters were together.

Suddenly, the microwave shut off and buzzed, causing me to flinch and release a "Gah!" into the wild. I took my ramen to the other room and plopped down on my chair, having moved the bag to one side. As thin as my frame was, the old cloth messenger bag was able to sit beside me with enough room to have tea.

Not that bags could have tea, I needed to stop my imagination from running off like that.

I sipped at the delicious brother, absently watching the other two play video games.

"Where's Pip?" I asked suddenly.

"He went over to Damien's for a bit." Clyde responded.

"Oh."

Pip was the final roommate, a sweet boy with a British accent who, in nearly every sense of the word, was an angel. While he clearly lacked the wings and halo, he made up for it with his attitude and graceful way of carrying himself. The former of which I was sure would lead to his eventual downfall. It was wonderful to see him treat everyone kindly with so much respect, but at the same time he let people walk all over him. The only time he ever got angry was when someone called him French (which I understood perfectly), even claiming he hated French people, though oddly enough he got along quite well with Damien's dorm roommate, Christophe.

In the midst of guessing what Damien and Pip were likely doing, my eyes cast down over the rim of the Styrofoam ramen cup to settle on my bag. Placing my dinner on the tea table and pulling my feet up onto the chair, I reached into my bag to pull out the butterfly notebook. After re-examining the cover, I flipped open to the first entry.

_ Angels_

_ "Everyone has an angel, a guardian who watches over us. We can't know what form they'll take, one day an old man, the next day, a little girl. But don't let appearances fool you – they can be fierce as any dragon. Yet they're not here to fight our battles, but to whisper from our heart, reminding that's it's us, it's every one of us who holds the power over the worlds we create."_

_ "And finally, this question; the mystery of whose story it will be, of who draws the curtain. Who is it that chooses the steps in our dance? Who drives us mad? Lashes us with whips and crowns us with victory when we survive the impossible? Who is it that does all these things?_

_ "Who honors those we love with the very life we live? Who sends monsters to kill us, and at the same time sings that we will never die? Who teaches us what's real and how to laugh at lies? Who decides why we live and what we'll die to defend? Who chains us, and who holds the key that can set us free?"_

_ -Mysterion_

Mysterion? That's a funny name, like a screen-name, or... or like a superhero. Admittedly, it sounded kind of cool. I flipped the page and read the next entry, written in a much-neater handwriting.

_A letter to Mishaela_

_ I'm sorry, Shae, for lying to you and saying I'll be back and bring your hopes up. I'll be truthful to you now, I'm sorry I wasn't before – I won't be coming back. You're an amazing girl, with a bright future ahead of you! Don't be scared of your future, but look forward to it and word hard in life. Don't be down, or let anyone get you down, know that I always believe in you. Sweet 16 and the many years after will be amazing, count on it. Thank you for all the wonderful memories, touching moments, and happiness. I'm so happy to have been able to talk to you one last time. I love you Shae, goodbye._

_ Anri - 3_

I looked away from a moment, nearly needing to tell myself to breathe. Was that... a suicide letter..?

I glanced back down at the page, seeing circles of warped paper and half-washed-away ink, old remnants of tears shed over the contents. I scoured the page for a date out of curiosity, but couldn't find one until I turned the page. The journal was at least two years old. This page held another, this time to a... "Douchebag."

_A letter to Douchebag_

_ Thank you for teaching me that I need to say what I really feel, or what I really want when I need to. When I was watching Fruits Basket, Kyo said the same thing to Tohru, and I got smacked in the face with remembering how you said the same thing, and now it's finally gotten me to the point where I could reply. I've known what I wanted to say to you for far longer than a month. I just never got to it because I didn't know how to say it. I avoided replying to your email because I was still debating what to do. I spent hours in bed mulling over exactly what I would say, but when I'd wake up, I couldn't stand to open my email. Finally, I kept my email open for a few days and now I'm ready. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but as you said, I can't spend my life pleasing everyone. That being said, this is what I have to say._

_ I'm so incredibly angry with you, after we spent so long together, then you suddenly break off like it meant nothing to you. Everything we said to each other about always being together was a lie, or more accurately, a foolish dream. I was trying so hard to graduate high school so that I could finally be with you, it didn't matter where you were so long as I could get there, but as soon as one door was closed, you just gave up on us, and you abandoned me. I know I was never perfect and my messages came out wrong sometimes, but I never gave up on us.-_

The front door opened, catching my attention as Pip walked in. I had to admit, he looked a bit tired, more so than usual, which only went further to confirm my speculations as to what he and Damien were up to.

"Hello, old chaps." He said cheerfully, dropping his backpack by the door and taking off his sneakers.

"Hey, Pip." The three of us said in unison. After silently working out what game Clyde and Butters were playing, Pip grabbed his bag and took it over to the table where he did homework every night.

I looked back down at the notebook lying in my hand, trying to get back to reading but finding it hard to focus above the commotion of the game.

With a heavy sigh I grabbed my ramen and my bag, then headed up to my room.

After closing the door I collapsed onto the bed, holding the notebook up above my face to I could continue to read.

_I really wanted to refrain from telling you this because I didn't want to hurt you, but I feel like if you see it yourself, you're not going to realize it before it's too late in your next relationship; you had night terrors of losing me over and over again, whether it was death by some stranger, or a demon and a group of ninjas driving a "free candy" van. It's so ironic you kept having these when that never turned out to be the case, because you did it with your own hands. That father of yours that you're so scared of being like, you may want to take a glance in the mirror and check if you're seeing any similarities, because that's what you've done. If you keep doing this, giving up when things seem hopeless, then you'll never be better than him. I hate to be the one who had to see this, but, despite if it does hurt you, I'm happy I told you, because if you didn't see it before, you can improve. This may seem irrelevant to you, but surely you remember how I described what I thought my soul really looked like; gray and very worn. To be honest, you've added a crack, and every time Sparrow would mention you, it'd get bigger, but now I've dug down to the bottom of the band-aid can to pull out the one band-aid no-one ever uses cause it's much too big. I've slapped it over the crack and now I'm ignoring it. If you have any arguments about anything I said, go ahead and send them my way if you want. I'll read them, but I won't reply. This is my end to it. I will always cherish the time we spent together, I don't want to lose those memories, but I can't talk to you anymore and pretend nothing ever happened, I'm done playing that game. Goodnight, Douchebag._

_ ~Mishaela_

I shouldn't be reading this. I mean, it's a personal collection of letters, I have no right to read them.

I set the book aside, but couldn't tear my eyes away.

'Your responsibility is to return it to it's owner' I told myself silently, looking up at the ceiling. But I had to know who it belonged to first, right? If I could find a name in there, I could find out who it belonged to.

'You could also wait till tomorrow and just ask around.' At this I rolled my eyes. Now that I had read a few entries I was interested, curious.

Again I grabbed the notebook and looked at the next page.

_5/28/2012_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I'm glad I was finally able to tell Douchebag how I felt. I don't want to be in another relationship again, at least, not for a while. Anyway, I know I never write anything so personal as a journal or diary – ugh, I hate that word, let's stick with journal – but I found this lying on my pillow when I came home, so... I guess I should make use of it. I can't tell who wrote that insert about Angels, but the handwriting is sloppy and there's really only one person who'd buy this for me – I have a guess as to who he is. I won't be using real names, though, in case mom happens to find this. The nicknames will make perfect sense to me, but not her. Whether or not this journal actually helps me, we'll just have to see._

OK, so that explained the Mishaela, Anri and Douchebag. I was almost worried they had eccentric/asshole parents. I continued to read.

_9/21/2012_

_Dear Mysterion,_

_ I'm feeling a little more confident in finding a job, however I've fallen back out of the habit of writing for an hour each day. I really wish I could just fall into one of my stories, at least things would be exciting. I guess I am enjoying writing and reading, but I wish I could be more productive and have the same fire with my own stories. At the very least, I wish I had someone to talk to, a personal Angel, just someone special that few to no people had. Of course, that also just seems to be very self-centered and egotistical. Still, just someone to talk to, someone to protect me, and someone to make me feel worthy of existing would be nice; talking to myself only makes it all worse, and talking to the characters I create is no different. I hope something changes soon._

_ ~Mishaela_

_ 10/23/2012_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ Today I've realized just how much I really want children someday. There are so many things I want to share with them, I feel like a huge chunk of me will be missing if I never have children. The real matter is enjoying my youth and eventually finding the right one, someone like what Douchebag used to be. That's another matter; I I need to really let it go, I can't get tied down by him anymore, that's partly why I agreed to try a relationship with Mr. Mormon, to at least relax and forget Douchebag. I can't be stuck on him forever. If only there was a way to bring you to life; to reality. That's always the problem; you will always be with me, but I can never be with you. Right now I just need to give Mr. Mormon a chance, I need to give him more attention than I have been._

On the next page there were two sections of text, one in black, the next in purple. A spot of reddish-brown ink was smudged between the two blocks, giving the area a stiffness.

_7/23/2013_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ How I wish you were here. More than ever I wished I lived in another world, one where magic existed, one where all my characters lived together, where I could live with them, maybe if I didn't have so many distractions I could actually write something. There are so many different things I'd like to write, but not all these stories are easy to tell, let alone describe. I'm glad I've found one thing that's really enjoyable though – crafting my staff with grandpa's old carving set. I only need to find a name for it. I really think of it more as a fire staff than anything, with the way it looks. I guess something about like Pyrhal would be good._

The next, short little paragraph caught me completely off-guard, the slightly sloppy words pulling every fiber of my being into focus.

_ Help me, Mysterion, I want to die again. I deserve to die, I should die. Things would ultimately be better if I were dead. Tin Tin could find someone better, mom and dad wouldn't have to take care of me, my existence wouldn't be painful and pointless. Just let me die already, I'm too much of a coward to do it myself._

When I turned the page, I was greeted by more reddish-brown that covered some of the words before I realized it wasn't ink – it was blood. The same purple ink continued, and though I knew I shouldn't, my curiosity forced me to continue.

_If I were dead, what He did to me would mean nothing, just as it does to him now. I wouldn't be forever haunted by it, maybe I'd have a better time looking at myself in the mirror if it didn't happen. I should just die. The family would be better off without me, -. Hardly anyone even respects me in that house anymo-. Most of the time I feel - I'm ignored any-. I just want to die. Douchebag abandoned - abandoned me. He abandoned m-. The most I'm worth is a sorry. I hate myself. I should die. I want to die. Then I wouldn't be such a - burden on anyone. They all thi-'m crazy. But I probably am. I should just be shot. Run over. Stabbed. Asphyxiated. -wned. drowned. Somebody Kill Me._

_ please_

I slammed the book shut and shoved it away from me, beginning to shake violently. Reaching up to rub my aching eyes I felt a dampness, finding tears that were running down my cheeks.

This was someone in the group? This is awful, and it was written somewhere between the beginning of the last fall semester and now? I rolled onto my side and curled up, scanning through as many people in the group as I could think of.

I knew it wasn't Craig – he denied ownership and I knew he wouldn't have lied to me over a notebook with a butterfly on it. There was an extremely small chance it belonged to either Damien of Christopher, as one was literally the Antichrist and the other seemed too strong to break emotionally.

It was ever out of character for someone like Pip – he never would have sent such a telling-off to anyone, even if they did call him Frenchie. Cartman was another no, judging by the usage of masculine terms to talk about Douchebag or Mr. Mormon. Everyone knew Cartman was straight as a cross, ironic as that was considering 'boy-sized leashes'...

'Go with Christ, brah.'

Looking back on the usage of a 'Mysterion', I was tempted to think it was in fact a girl – those I knew I wouldn't be able to guess on without closer investigation.

But what if Mysterion was a screen-name? If the person was writing to their friend, that would mean both genders were back on the board, and since I didn't know for sure I refused to let myself cut an entire grouping out completely. Even with the masculine usages, our group contained gays and bi's as well. Well-known to the group, Pip and Damien were fucking, Butters was crushing hard on Kenny, who would fuck anyone, and, a little lesser-known, Craig and I had been messing around a bit.

Getting back on track, I couldn't really see it being either Wendy or Bebe as they were both two strong personalities. Still, they were girls. I wouldn't put it past estrogen and dramatic mood-swings to change that in a heartbeat.

I spent a while more debating with myself before I was falling asleep. Rolling over onto my other side I closed my eyes and hoped the Underpants Gnomes wouldn't steal my last pair of underpants tonight.


	2. Keepers

Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the first, and I wanted to put lemon in it but I just couldn't do it x,x I've never done lemon before and I don't want to ruin it or the story by rushing it, so if I eventually get it done I'll post it on it's own. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and remember to review! I need the feedback QQ

I do not own South Park, Pokemon, or Pink Floyd.

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Part 2 - Keepers

"Kevin, stop." Came a half-amused voice, followed by a giggle. A deep chuckle responded, followed by a refusal. I looked up from my laptop, seeing Kevin prodding at Red's sides while she sat in his lap playing on her 3DS. "I'm trying to catch a Blitzle." She fake-whined. I looked back down to my laptop and the assignment I was trying to focus on. So far I had typed up my name, the date, the teacher's name, the title and... one sentence. Not even one sentence as I was stuck after a comma.

All day my focus had been drawn to everyone in the group. Everyone who came in today. I'd left the journal in my room, trying to ignore it all morning. I knew I should have brought it and put it out to see who'd claim it, but I just couldn't look at it.

Some part of me wanted to read further, to see what else this mystery person was feeling. I wanted to know the story. I wanted to know the real them; I obviously wasn't seeing it here. I was, however, now trying to pay more attention.

"Hey, Lola!" Karen called from her seat by the power outlet my laptop was plugged into.

"Hey, Karen." Lola replied as she paddled in to plop down in the empty chair beside the other.

Lola seemed a good possibility. Granted, I didn't know too much about her either, but she seemed to be a bit more emotional than the others. Still, despite that, she often seemed happy, if a little miffed now and then by Tumblr.

2:53 pm. This meant that several other students would be coming back as well. Speaking of which, Pip and Damien walked in, hands clasped together as they approached. Not too far behind them were Kyle and Cartman, who were arguing about something or other, then Craig and Ruby.

"Ruby!" Karen piped up, leaping up to tackle the girl and attach to her in a hug.

"Hey." Ruby smiled, returning the hug. "How were classes?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as hands landed on my shoulders and someone's chin on top of my head. I let out a hiccup of surprise as I looked up frantically to identify the intruder.

"Hey there, Tweekers." Craig said with a bemused smile.

"Jesus, Craig!" I shook, heart still racing. "D-Don't do that!"

"But it's so much fuuuuuuun!" He drew out, mocking a frown.

"What if m-my heart g-gives out from shock because I wa-wasn't expecting it AND I DIE!? GAH! WHAT IF I GO INTO A COMA AND NEVER WAKE UP AND SOME CREEPY DOCTOR USES ME FOR EXPERIMENTS OR FUCKING NECROPHILIA!? AAAHHHHHH!" I absolutely freaked out and yanked on my hair. Hands quickly cupped my face and turned me slightly so I was looking at Craig. He gently pulled my hands from my hair and placed my thermos in my hands. I twisted off the cap and took a gulp, sighing in relief once I was done.

I didn't freak out like that nearly as much as I did when I was a child, but a few things managed to bring it out every once in a while. I sheepishly avoided eye-contact and watched the floor.

"You wanna come over to play video games?" He asked blankly. I looked up at the clock. It was just after three now and I clearly wasn't going to get anywhere on my paper. I sighed heavily.

"That sounds great."

* * *

Later that night, I strolled into my room, sipping my coffee as I took my seat at my desk, just taking a moment for my bones to ease. The Butterfly Notebook that had been plaguing my mind since I found it sat in front of me, taunting me.

I had to read it, right? I had to know who's this was. Still, it seemed wrong to read without permission.

Finally, I pushed the book back and turned away to drink my coffee, glaring at my computer screen. I tried to busy myself with things like games and facebook, but all too often I would catch my eyes sliding back over to the brown-blue cover and staring.

I reached for it.

"Hey, Tweek!" Clyde called from downstairs.

"Yea?" I yelled back.

"We're gunna go get pizza! What do you want?"

"Mushrooms, onions, green pepper, Canadian bacon, black olives and sausage!"

"Right, see ya when we get back!"

I slumped back in my chair, finally grabbing the book and giving in.

_12/3/2013_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I'm ready, whenever you're willing to take me. I'm done here. I'm not going anywhere, I have no one, I am no one. I am nothing. Why is it getting harder to draw blood? I keep sharpening the blade, but don't get much anymore. I'm done. I just wish I had the balls to do it, I'm just a fckin pussy, a cowa- How could I expect myself to protect anyone like this? I should just die, get this thing over with. If I can't bleed it, do I swa- it? Nyquil + bottles of pills? Am I really crying? I ha- been able to do - in -. I thought I didn't have any tea- myself. Why does it look so beautiful? The red? Why can't I stop? Am I really that far gone? So Far Away? Anri should have lived. I should have been the one who killed herself. Spa- would have been happier if Anri came back and I'd killed myself. It's never going to stop. Why couldn't I have listened to him- Everything he says makes sense. But he- going back. I won't make it. What if he gets shot? What if he steps on a landmine? I had a hard time handling a month, how am I supposed to survive a year of him gone? I don't want him to go. But he doesn't even know. He'll never know how much I think I love him. Do I even have the right to love him this way? Just knowing him is a privilege. My Goddess, my Rose is lucky to have him. But he's lucky to have her. Put me out of my misery; I'll never be with him, not if she's my competition. Not that he'd want me anyway. I'm too ugly, too stupid, too pathetic. I should just die already. Please someone kill me. I am a pathetic excuse for a living thing. I should die. I want to die. I need to die. Sing me to sleep, I can't sleep here anymore. Every time I hear the silence I begin to think about shit, and I can't shut the fuck up. Someone please murder me. I need it. I really need it. I want it._

_1/4/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ She told me the next time she sees him that she's gunna break up with him. I want to be with her, but I fear what that will do to him. Will he hate me? Undoubtedly. He'll want me dead and burning in hell. But I can't blame him. It's what I deserve. He'll hate me for taking the Goddess away from him. But I don't want him to. I still want to be friends with him. I'm a terribly greedy person, aren't I? What about her? We're closer than I've ever been with someone, and it's only been 2 months. Why am I so attracted to her?... Well, actually that one's a no-brainer. I call her a goddess for a reason... But why is she so attracted to me? I'm ugly, I'm an idiot. She's so beautiful, so 'finely-tuned'. I'm... way below desirable. I take last place on the List. How could anyone possibly want this? I hate myself, this gives me such a splintering headache. It just doesn't make any sense._

_ What if she found out? Would she still want me if she knew I was dirty? I know I'm not fully... damaged, but I still feel dirty, wrong. It's not right being in this body... Not since He did it. Not since He stole it away from me. He ruined me. I can never be normal. I never had the chance. What will happen? If she wants it? Will I really be ready to give it to her? Or will I hide in my shell? When she asks why, what will I tell her? Can I really deny her of me? Could I really tell her what I am? The old ragged animal fished from the frozen lake. Will the claw machine take one prize, or two? Not that my secrets are a prize for anyone but those who crave knowledge._

_ But Mjolnir knows. I don't know if he knows that I didn't want it, and I worry. Has he really forgotten? I doubt it. A man who prizes knowledge would not throw away any pieces so easily. What if his hate causes him to use that to hurt me? Listen to me, I'm too paranoid of my friends. It's hard for me to trust people anymore. I hate myself. How could I think so bad of him? He's a good person. He said he cares about me... Didn't he? He may not have been speaking to me as I was too distracted, but they were talking about the cuts, and he said people he cares about. But you also heard him, he also said he hates me, to my face. He never said he was joking or anything... How could he not hate me. I gave away one secret and he figured out another; he has weapons. One re-opening, one little statement about me and how I was made to lie – to tell them I was lying._

_ To tell them He didn't do anything. I ruined our family. I deserve to die. I caused this. Mom lost friends because of me. I should have never opened my big fucking mouth. Nothing changed. He got away with it. And He doesn't feel a thing. He doesn't care. He never will. All I am is a tool to him. He knows I can't say anything. He knows I won't. Because I'd rather die than have them know. But that's my weapon. The one who leaks will get my blood on their hands. And I'll be free. I'll be asleep forever. Nightlock._

_ Rosary Peas. Oleander. European Yew. Doll's Eyes. Hemlock. Castor Beans. Angel's Trumpet. Monkshood. White Snakeroot. Apple Seeds. Deadly Nightshade._

_ I know you don't really have a choice, but thanks for sticking by me all this time. I'll get you out soon, you'll be ok._

Below that, the words "I'm gunna tell him, wish me courage." were written in a different ink.

_1/8/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I fear that I have done him a great deal of damage. But... There's no way I was gunna do the exact same thing Roxanna did to him. I hope he gets over me soon. He'll soon realize I was only an old boot caught in the river anyway. What about Mjolnir? God I'm so pissed at him. Did he really do it? Did he really kiss another girl while he and My Goddess were still together? If so he's such a hypocrite. WHY!? .. I'm tired..._

_ What shall be sung at my funeral, whenever it comes:_

_All alone, or in twos,_

_The ones who really love you_

_Walk up and down outside The Wall._

_Some hand in hand,_

_Some gathered together in bands,_

_The bleeding hearts and the artists_

_Make their stand._

_And when they've given you their all_

_Some stagger and fall – after all it's not easy_

_Banging your heart against some_

_Mad bugger's Wall._

_~Pink Floyd, Outside the Wall_

_4/19/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ The past month and a half has been terrible for me. Taillow managed to get me a job at Hy-Vee as a cashier – that say we had made plans for the four of us (Rose and Devon included) to get an apartment together. Since then, we've had quite a few problems, first of which – if I remember correctly – was between Taillow and Rose..? I may be totally wrong, but it went along the lines of Taillow ditching Rose and I in the plan, then jumping back in like it was nothing. Sam really didn't appreciate that. Second... I kinda quit/lost my job at Hy-Vee... Cashiering was kinda ok I guess, but I kept making so many stupid mistakes. I'm so pathetic I can't even hold a job at Hy-Vee. Thought, other than me, Taillow's the only one who's really upset about it._

_ The last night I worked, I made a discount mistake as well as an extra purchase on the same customer. She wanted me to reverse the purchase – I can't do that, once it's in, it's in. Cashiers can't reverse charges. I told her she could maybe have it fixed at customer service, and she got all pissy about it being my fault, not hers. Apparently she went, cause I was reported. Nichole talked to me and was nice about it and all, but I felt so stupid, so worthless – why would they want to keep me? I had to keep telling myself not to cry as I walked all the way back to get my bag and return to the front just to leave. Once I got in the Jeep and started driving they broke loose. I'm such a child..._

_ I contacted Tacocat-_

Tacocat? Yea, that had to be Clyde. No one else in the group was so enthused by tacos. I kept on reading.

_-that night to see if I could crash on him so he could make sure I didn't do anything final. That was the closest I'd ever been to suicide – I kept thinking of the medicine cabinet. Luckily, he was having DND at Perkins with Beaner, Raven and Wolfy._

Karen!

That was it, the Butterfly Notebook belonged to Karen McCormick! She was the one who 'crashed' out DND session that night. Clyde wouldn't say why she was coming, but that's right – she looked terribly distressed.

I looked away from the book, letting the shock settle as I stared at my screen-saver.

Karen had all these problems, and I couldn't even tell. She's even _been over here_ quite a few times. I mean, mainly to hand out with Clyde – especially since he had a little problem with long-time-best-friend Bebe, but we all hung out together.

He and Karen even dated for a bit before she... Surely that was the relationship she wrote about before when she mentioned doing damage, cause, well it was true. She kinda added to Clyde's bought of depression he's fallen into.

Now though, they seem to be on pretty good terms again.

And Ruby, her Goddess. She'd been dating Gregory before he left. So... wait. First Karen had a crush on Gregory, who was taken by Ruby, who she then falls in love with..?

Huh. I was suddenly glad I wasn't confused on who I was in love with.

I looked back down at the notebook.

Beaner? Really? Please tell me that had to do with coffee beans. Two left; Raven and Wolfy. There was a really high chance Raven was Craig as opposed to Michael. Granted, they both had black hair, but Craig really was the one who resembled a raven more. Wolfy was probably for lone wold, which, as Michael was quite a bit older than the rest of us and was a member of the group that didn't actually take any classes, fit him pretty well.

I continued to read.

_Together, they were able to cheer me up. I felt back for intruding, but if they were bothered, they didn't show it. After the other 3 left, Wolfy and I stood outside for an hour, talking about my problems. He talked me into calling in sick for the following morning, which I really appreciate. I really couldn't have handled going back into Hy-Vee like that. But then that following Thursday I found out I was supposed to work that Monday and Wednesday – and I had missed it, so right there, I gave up. Eventually, I told mom I'd been fired, and she brought me a nice cup of coffee in bed that morning and we talked. Then I told dad. He didn't seem made or anything I expected, which relieved me greatly._

_ The week after my talk with Wolfy, I was even more suicidal, but I managed to hide myself in Tacocat to run away. I feel terrible in a way – after breaking up with him like that, but I'm happy that we still are good friends, and I've been able to help him get through his issues with Heels lately. He started cutting._

Mother fucker..!

I was filled with the need to go yell at Clyde, that _idiot!_ I almost got up to go yell at him when I remembered they were out getting a pizza. I sat and fumed.

On the other hand, I couldn't yell at him without telling him about the notebook, and knowing him he'd want to see it.

"Goddammit..." I muttered, dejected.

_I don't want him to cut, I don't want to see him hurt, but I can't tell him to stop. Not after realizing why I cut. So instead, I asked him to promise me he'd stop cutting on the inside of the wrist. I don't want him to accidentally cut too deep and land himself in the hospital and eventually the psych ward. I don't mean to impose, but I don't want to see him end up there. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that._

_ I've written a lot today, maybe I'll finish my story tomorrow._


	3. Loser's Healer

Hey guys! This is the final installment of The Butterfly's Notebook. Next I'll be trying to get back on those one-shots I'd started x,x I know I haven't worked on one of those for a while, but I really want to get some of them done, though my main focus will still be on getting a book of original work done and published. Thank you for coming back to read this, those of you who've been here since the earlier chapters, and those of you who are new, thank you for taking the time to stick around 'til the end *hugs* You people are wonderful!

As always, reviews not only welcome, but VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! It really helps me to know what you people think of my work, even if you have a few pointers in places for me to improve!

Still: Don't own South Park, Pokemon, or Supernatural

* * *

Part 3 - Loser's Healer

"OK, then you need to pour the cherry filling we just made into the pie crust – Hey, no, don't lick the spoon! We still need that!" Craig said as he turned away from the cook book, taking the mixing spoon away from me. I pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes and started to mimic a whining dog. "Keep that up and I'll swat you on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper." He smiled, licking off the spoon.

"H-Hey, I thought we -ngh- needed that!" I said, playfully grabbing at it, but he held it higher and I reached up, still unable to touch it.

"We did, until you spoiled it." He chuckled.

"You little asshole, give it b-back!"

"I'm sorry? Who's the little one here?"

"ARGH!" I spazzed, shrinking away. Before I could turn around to grab a spatula, Craig bent over slightly so our eyes were on the same level, holding the spoon between us.

"You first, babe." He said. I leaned in, giving the spoon a tiny lick then pulled back, but he waited, so I moved in again and began licking the spoon. He soon followed suit, turning his head slightly sideways so our noses didn't touch.

It wasn't long before I could no-longer keep myself from laughing, moving back as he suddenly, and very deliberately, licked the tip of my nose.

"Hey!" I said lightheartedly. He only responded by softly patting my ass, then reaching across the counter for the spatula. He then handed it to me.

"You're gunna want to get _all_ that filling out of that bowl." He suddenly looked over with a slightly curious face. "I uh, noticed you've still got that notebook." I twitched. "Haven't found out who it belongs to yet?" I slowly shook my head.

"It's Karen's." I said, placing the now empty bowl in the sink.

"OK, this is where you use this to cut half inch-wide strips so we can weave them for the top crust." He said, giving me the pie-wheel thing I'd never even had to use before. "Why haven't you given it back?"

"I kinda... started to read it." I squeaked, cutting into the pie dough. He too note of my tone.

"Good or bad?" He asked, but I'm sure he already knew the answer.

"Bad." I whispered. "Pretty bad, but I'm going to give it back tonight at the party."

"Are you going to tell her you read it?"

"... I don't know."

* * *

_Easter, 4/20/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ The final thing that happened involving the apartment was caused by me losing my job. I told Taillow about it and she seemed... I don't know how to describe it. At first she didn't seem too bothered, but then on our way back to South Park, she told me I basically have no right to have anxiety because I don't have to deal with a mother like hers. I'm sorry I'm just that pathetic – she doesn't even know me that well and she's somehow able to make a call like that? She doesn't know. I won't tell her. Even if I did, I'd probably get it thrown back in my face with a big bright sticker saying 'that's nothing compared to my mother'. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so pathetic. I'm sorry I'm such a failure. I'm sorry I unrightfully have anxiety. I'm sorry._

_ Somehow, Taillow knows about what Rose and I did, unless she's lying. I asked Rose about it, and she told me she didn't say anything. I guess she might have mindlessly let something slip, but I'm not sure if she would have done that so easily._

_ I don't know anymore. I'm sick of this whole apartment thing – because I lost my job, Taillow and Space Marine found a trailer around North Park for the two of them. Sunday, she called Rose to tell her about the trailer, and that she didn't want to move in with someone who might back out (me). Rose and I both agree that's hypocritical seeing how she's ditched us twice now, so we're done._

_ I didn't know any of this until Wednesday, when Taillow told me about the trailer she found. I didn't argue or ask questions, just stayed silent. Told Rose about it, but only got a reply back on how it was at Hellstorm's place. Then the next day, Taillow randomly says how she can't wait to move into the apartment... So I asked her about the trailer and she tells me that the girl who was selling it decided she wanted it instead._

_ So Taillow is just expecting us to jump back in on the apartment after she ditched us. We're out. We're not doing it anymore. We still want to be friends, but we're done with the apartment._

_4/28/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I have to do it. I have to kill myself. I can't do this anymore. I just want to die. Every time I drive I keep begging cars to stray from their paths and hit me. I'm not sure how I'm going to do it myself – I'm such a chicken. I'm sorry Mysterion, I never did manage to free you. I'm sorry to all of you. I'm so pathetic, I've failed you all, I've doomed you all to die with me, though I know you deserve better. I just want to die. They don't even notice, they just see me as a confused child. I have to do this. If only I could just live with you all in my stories. I need to die. I'm a burden to everyone. I should die. I will die. Sparrow, I'm sorry. I love you. They don't even... that's not true. You know better than that._

That seemed... cut off, I thought. Not like the regular ending of a finished thought.

_5/13/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I'm still here, despite my last entry. I guess I've been doing ok lately. I admit though that I'm still down there. How am I going to tell mom and dad how horrible I've been doing with classes? I don't want to face that. I'm already such a disappointment and a failure. I'm so tired. Am I really a writer stereotype? Am I a terrifying demographic? What am I – The Girl Who Cried Wolf or the Big Bad Wolf? I'm so upset, I'm so messed up. I'm not even sure what I believe anymore. Is this fear of Hell and Demons real or inspired by fiction? There's no one out there for me. About a week or so ago, Pisces told me something that's been bothering me. It was something he'd heard Rose say, and I just don't know. It bothers me that she'd say that. Maybe she'd be happier with someone else. What could she possibly see in me? Absolutely nothing. I'd be doing her a favor if I just killed myself off. I want to die, I just can't seem to do anything about it. I stole a bottle of pills, but I haven't done anything with it. Mysterion, help me. I can't hold on much longer, I should end it and stop bothering everyone. That's all I ever am – a bother. I should die. Any feathers I had were torn out long ago._

_ I hate myself._

I began to really worry again. She was dating Ruby, right? They seemed so... perfect, so happy together. It was clear as day that Ruby lover he just as much as she loved Ruby.

How could she even begin to doubt such an honest person?

_5/22/2014_

_ Dear Mysterion,_

_ I have to face it; sooner or later, my parents are going to find out about my grades. And I still don't have a job... I'm just one big disaster. How can they be proud of what I am? I can write. That's it. I'm nothing special, nothing good. Being a sci-fi/fantasy writer, I'm basically in the entertainment business. How the Hell is that useful to humanity? I'm nothing more than a waste of space and money. I just want to die, why can't people let me go? I'm not even useful to them. If others have problems, I'm no help. I never have been. All I am is a burden. Taillow, Space Marine and Rose don't have a place because of my anxiety, which I apparently have no right to. I'm sorry you don't know about my past, but you have no right to say that. You don't even know me._

_ I'm not sure anybody really knows me. I feel so alone. Why is it that ever since I joined the Group, it has been haunting me? People keep saying the word, keep wanting to share stories involving it, keep.. Not caring. I want to scream out, to tell them to stop. They're hurting me. This isn't how it's supposed to be. I just want to forget. I can't handle this much longer. No one understands how I feel. I feel absolutely disgusting. She needs someone better, someone stable. All I'm good for is writing. I don't want things to carry on like this, but where can I go? I really only have 2 realistic options here – 1) finish a book and get it published. 2) kill myself. Both would end the vicious cycle of ignorance, depression and failure. I deserve to die._

_ I'm scared._

_ I'm scared of what my parents will say when they hear my grades._

_ I'm scared of the different look I'll get from them if I tell them about Ruby._

_ I'm scared of becoming the inevitable failure He said I would be._

_ I'm scared of being a disappointment to Kenny._

_ I'm scared Rose is cheating on me with someone else._

_ I'm scared Rose doesn't really love me._

_ I'm scared of showing my all to Sparrow and disappointing her._

_ I'm scared of not being able to support myself._

_ I'm scared of losing physical dependence._

_ I'm scared everyone will find out how disgusting I truly am._

_ I'm scared they'll laugh and disown me._

_ I'm scared my parents might die much too soon._

_ I'm scared my parents will die at all._

_ I'm scared I'll be left alone._

_ I'm scared I'm going insane._

_ I'm scared I have no worth._

_ I'm scared my friends might die._

_ I'm scared Pisces might not find true love._

_ I'm scared of waking up._

_ I'm scared of having to deal with the public._

_ I'm scared of having a job a responsibility._

_ I'm scared of being alone._

_ I'm scared one day I'll break down in front of my friends and cry._

_ I'm scared of my brother._

_ I'm scared when he holds a knife._

_ I'm scared Mjolnir will tell._

_ I'm scared Wolfy will tell._

_ I'm scared of my friends._

_ I'm scared of death._

_ I'm scared of Hell._

_ I'm scared of God._

_ I'm scared Douchebag never loved me._

_ I'm scared of facing Lost and Forgotten._

_ I'm scared of remembering._

_ I'm scared if I kill myself, I'll just rebirth._

_ I'm scared I'll be admitted to a mental ward._

_ I'm scared of myself._

_ I'm scared my parents will discover that I'm still haunted by it._

_ I'm scared they'll tell me it shouldn't bother me._

_ I'm scared they'll sew my mouth shut again._

_ I'm scared to rip out these stitches._

That was it – the rest of the pages were blank. I gently places the book on my desk, sitting in silence. I soon because lost in thought until a soft knock came from the door.

"Hey, Tweek, you ready to go?" Came Butters' voice. I looked over.

"Yea."

"A-Are you OK?" He asked, a worried look cast upon his face.

"Yea, it's OK Butters. Thank you." I smiled. He left, then I sat there another moment before gathering my stuff.

* * *

The party was about two hours in and already great, but then Kenny arrived with both his sister and -

"Vodka!" Ruby sprang up from where she'd been sitting on the floor and rushed over. Several people followed and I watched as Karen scrambled out of their way and toward the couches where a few of us sat. I myself was sitting between Craig's legs, my back resting against his chest as he had his arms wrapped around my middle.

I trained my eyes on Karen, nervous about what I was planning.

"Not gunna be drinking?" Clyde asked as she took a seat beside him.

"Nah, I gotta drive _that _idiot home." She smiled, lazily pointing at her brother. "What about you?"

"Eh, maybe later. Not really feelin' like it at the moment."

"What? Clyde Donovan not drinking free alcohol?" Karen looked astonished, apparently not believing her ears.

Clyde leaned in to, I think, whisper something, and she suddenly made an 'o' shape with her lips and nodded. I followed as her eyes moved over to the corner containing Heidi, Annie and Bebe. This was the same corner Kenny was now serving drinks in.

Karen looked around the room to assess her surroundings. Damien was on a couch in another corner with Pip, igniting his own hand on fire as the other watched in wonder.

Kyle was taking his new cup of vodka into the kitchen, leaving Stan and Butters talking to Kenny. Michael walked out past Kyle to join Clyde and Karen when we all heard shouting from the other room.

"CARTMAN! GFET OUT OF THE KITCHEN!"

Wendy, poor thing. Almost.

Knowing how scary Wendy could be, I was inclined to be worried about Cartman. Then again, Cartman was often an asshole who deserved it.

"But I'm the chef!" He whined.

"Not when you keep eating every damn thing you make!"

Stan rushed over to the doorway.

"Hey Cartman, come on, Kenny brought vodka." We all heard a grumpy grunt as Cartman walked out, and I'm sure Wendy blew her boyfriend a kiss, because when he turned around, Stan was blushing.

I looked back to Karen and jolted with a squeak when I realized she was looking right at Craig and I. Both her and Craig found this amusing and laughed. I tried to sink out of sight, my face burning from embarrassment.

Ruby came over to Karen, vodka in hand as she pulled her partner up and led her into the kitchen.

It baffled me how that girl, that cheerful ball of sweetness could really feel all those terrible things on the inside. She had this way of cheering people up – she had a sensitivity to people's emotions when others couldn't see it.

Her intuition was 'spot-on'.

I wondered how she would handle to approach.

I flinched as Kenny plopped down on the couch beside us, grinning from ear to ear.

"So, you two finally official?" He asked excitedly. Craig stiffly flipped him off as I blushed, but nodded. "Who asked who?"

"H-he asked me." I stuttered, snuggling into the raven. Craig leaned forward a bit and kissed the back of my head, taking in the scent of my hair as he did so.

"How-"

"Kenny! Where'd the vodka go!?" Bebe's voice demanded from across the room.

"Coming!" With that, he left again.

For a long time we sat there, kinda cuddling as we watched a random episode of Supernatural on the TV. I almost fell asleep, despite the fact that I had my coffee, until Craig nudged me.

"Hmm?" I sounded, tilting my head back a bit.

"Karen just went outside. Now's probably the time to go talk to her." He said, pressing gently on my back. I got up, grabbed my bag, and walked out the door. I looked around but there was no sign of her.

I walked around a bit, weaving through various cars until I noticed a shape standing out amongst the collection of metal. Karen was sitting cross-legged on the hood of an old, beat up Oldsmobile. I walked up quietly, then popped up right beside her, causing her to jump.

"Dear God, Tweek, you scared me!" She laughed, a hand now trying to clutch her heart.

"S-Sorry." I said. "Whatcha doing out -ngh- here?"

"Getting away from the crowd a bit." She said. I love 'em all, but it can get a little stuffy in there with how small the rooms are."

"That's true." I said. I tried to get myself to pull out her notebook, but I was nervous and kind of scared.

"What about you?" I looked at her. "You seemed pretty comfy with Craig, why'd you come out amongst the grass and stars?" I glanced down to my feet, then reached into my bag and brought out the Butterfly Notebook. I watched her flush – even in the moonlight – as he eyes fell upon it. She was hesitant to take it, but then held it tight to her chest, wordless.

"I... read it." I said, our eyes locked, her full of so much fear. It was so unnatural, the way her eyes almost lightened, her brows pulling together as if she were in pain. "I'm sorry..."

Still she didn't say anything for a long time, and I felt even worse, like I'd betrayed her.

"A-Are you going to tell them?" She stuttered, her voice shaky, as if she could break at the slightest touch. "Now that you know, will you tell them what a failure I am?" Her tone wasn't angry, it was even hard to picture her as angry, except for the one time she yelled at Christophe for saying a word he couldn't even remember. No, she was more scared. "Are you going to tell them how disgusting I am? What a liar I am? What a terrible person I am?" What I did next managed to make her stop her string of self-degradation.

I pulled her into a hug, holding her head to my shoulder.

"No."

She began to shake and suddenly my shoulder was wet as she began to cry. She hugged back tightly, sobbing for probably the first time in a good while.

"You're alright, Karen. There's nothing wrong with you that will push people away. You're doing just fine."

* * *

The Butterfly's Notebook

Next: The Night She Screamed

(as found on my profile)

* * *

Hoped you guys enjoyed that :3 Below is a full list of who's who in the notebook, just in case you're curious.

Mishaela - Karen McCormick

Anri - Rebecca Cotswolds (Unknown to The Group)

Sparrow - Sally Turner (Unknown to The Group)

Douchebag - .. Douchebag/New Kid (Unknown to The Group)

Mr. Mormon - Gary Harrison (Unknown to The Group)

Tin Tin - Pete (Unknown to The Group)

Mjolnir - Gregory of Yardale

My Goddess/Rose - Ruby Tucker

Roxanna - Milly (Unknown to The Group)

Taillow - Red

Space Marine - Kevin Stoley

Nichole - Nichole (who works at Hy-Vee _)

Tacocat - Clyde Donovan

Beaner - Tweek Tweak

Raven - Craig Tucker

Wolfy - Michael

Heels - Bebe Stevens

Hellstorm - Wendy Testaburger

Pisces - Kyle Broflovski

Lost - Henrietta Biggle (Unknown to The Group)

Forgotten - Firkle (Unknown to The Group)

"Him"/"He" - Kevin McCormick

Mysterion - Karen's Guardian Angel who left her the notebook, also became a story character as Karen developed writing skills.

* * *

I think that's all of them x,x


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